


Fake It (‘Til We Make It, Babe)

by Lichinamo



Series: Unconnected SAF Stories [3]
Category: Spies Are Forever - Talkfine/Tin Can Brothers
Genre: Alternate Universe-Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe-Modern Setting, Falling In Love, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Rich!Owen, Working Class!Curt, bed sharing, fake dating au, tags to be added as I see fit, they met on Craigslist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:14:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 4,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26036962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lichinamo/pseuds/Lichinamo
Summary: Curt needed to make rent, Owen needed a date to his office party. It all sort of spiraled from there.A Fake Dating AU :)
Relationships: Owen Carvour/Agent Curt Mega
Series: Unconnected SAF Stories [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1888417
Comments: 28
Kudos: 78





	1. First Meetings

They say money makes you do strange things. Curt didn’t realize how true that was until now.

His boyfriend- ex boyfriend, Curt chided himself internally- had left him hung and dry and unable to pay the rent on his own, leaving Curt to resort to Craigslist as a way to try and find quick cash.

Then he found the perfect gig.

A business man needed a fake date for an office party. Preferably male, mid to late twenties, with acting experience.

So Curt emailed O. Carvour, and now here he was, sitting at the local McDonald’s nursing a one dollar soda and waiting to see if he’d show.

Eventually, a tall and very handsome man entered the restaurant, neck craning around as if he were looking for someone. Tentatively, Curt held up his hand in greeting. Lord, please let this man be O. Carvour, please let this man be O. Carvour, please-

“Are you C. Mega?” The handsome stranger asked, standing just by the table.

Curt stood quickly, practically stumbling out of his chair in his haste to get to his feet. “Yeah- uh, yes, I am. You’re O. Carvour?”

“You can call me Owen.” Owen shook Curt’s hand before taking a seat across from him.

“Curt. Uh, that’s what the C stands for.” Curt was fumbling over his words like a high schooler, and it was honestly embarrassing. He needed to pull it together.

Owen seemed to at least have the decency to ignore his awkwardness. “I have to say, I’m surprised someone actually responded to my ad. I wasn’t expecting it.”

Curt shrugged. “I need to make rent, and it was either this or the guy who needed his trucks washed.”

Owen let out an amused huff of air. “Right. Well, I want to tell you right now that this might end up being a long term thing if it goes well. My company has a lot of events, and I’m getting rather tired of people busting my arse about not having a date.”

Curt nodded in understanding. Fucking _score._ “We have to hash out the details first, though, right? Like, what’s our backstory? How long have we been together, how’d we meet, stuff like that.”

Owen pulled a notepad out from his back pocket- and who carried notepads around anymore?- and flipped it open. “Let’s hash this out, then.”


	2. The Party

Curt could honestly see why Owen resented these events- they were _boring._ Just a bunch of stuffy business men talking about things Curt didn’t understand and laughing at bad jokes. It all made him want to go to sleep.

Curt rested his head on Owen’s shoulder, arms linked together, as he fought to keep his eyes open. It would reflect poorly on Owen if Curt drifted off, and he actually liked the Brit, so he didn’t want to do anything that would negatively affect him.

A soft kiss was pressed to his forehead, and Curt had to fight to keep a blush down. He knew it was for appearance’s sake, but he was starved for affection, and any touch sent his heart racing.

“You feeling okay, my love?” Owen murmured, and for a moment Curt felt like they were the only two people in the world.

Curt closed his eyes. “My head hurts,” He answered honestly. He’d spent most of the day working, and going from one loud environment to another was just killing him.

“Why don’t you sit down for a while and get some rest? I have to talk to my boss, but after that we can leave. Is that okay?” Owen’s hand brushed his cheek gently.

Curt hummed and nodded in agreement. He expected for Owen to shake him awake and point him to where he could sit, but instead Owen carefully guided him through the room and helped him down.

Owen pressed another kiss to his forehead. “I’ll be right back.”

Curt hummed again, curling up in the corner of the couch. Owen was a very good actor- he was really selling the part of the doting boyfriend, even Curt was beginning to believe it.

Curt didn’t know how much time had passed before strong arms were wrapping around him, and he was being lifted off the couch. He twitched in irritation, having been rather comfortable- or, as comfortable as one can get on an office couch- before he was being gently shushed.

“It’s all right, darling,” Owen’s voice said softly into his ear. “It’s just me.”

Curt relaxed, resting his head against Owen’s shoulder once again. The Brit was so warm, and he was so cold. . .

Curt was fast asleep by the time they got into the cab.


	3. Laying in the Dark

Curt really liked Owen.

He was funny, and he was kind, and he actually _liked_ talking to Curt. No one liked talking to Curt!

Curt was trying to enjoy his not-a-date-friend-hangout with Owen- they did that, sometimes, because again, they got along- but it was hard to focus on the world around him when his head was pounding. He felt like he was going to die, he kept getting black spots in his vision, he just wanted to curl up in a blanket and go to sleep.

“Curt? Did you hear me?”

Curt snapped out of his funk and looked over at Owen. “Huh? I’m sorry, did you say something?”

Owen was looking at him with a worried expression. “I asked if you were feeling all right. You don’t look so good right now.”

“Oh, I’m fine,” Curt said, trying to wave it off, as if he wasn’t pale and beginning to shake. “My head just hurts like a bitch.”

“Are you sure?” Owen pressed gently. Curt almost wished he hadn’t told the man about his penchant for migraines- almost. “You can lay down in my room if you want.”

Curt paused for a moment. That actually sounded really nice. “I don’t want to put you out,” He said slowly.

“You won’t be putting me out. Come on.” Owen got up off the couch and led Curt into his bedroom. If Curt weren’t in so much pain, he would probably look around and admire it, but instead he just crawled into bed- Owen’s bed.

Owen pulled the curtains so the room was dark before tucking Curt in. “Do you want a cool rag for your forehead?”

Curt nodded mutely, closing his eyes. Owen shuffled out of the room, and soon a wet washcloth was dabbing at his skin.

Curt relaxed, feeling relief at the contact, and was able to slip off to sleep relatively peacefully.


	4. Run Away (With Me?)

“ _Curt, I have a huge favor to ask of you._ ”

Owen sounded like he was worried. Curt paused, leaning against the wall of the break room.

“What is it?” Curt asked, tapping his fingers against his phone.

“ _It’s. . . My company does this annual retreat up at this fancy lodge, some bull about team bonding? Anyway, we’re allowed to bring a guest- encouraged to bring a guest, if we have a significant other, and-_ ”

Curt cut him off, visions of doing anything that wasn’t working twelve hour shifts at Wal-Mart flooding his mind. “I’ll do it.”

“ _Really? You sure you don’t need to think it over more, look at your availability?_ ” Owen sounded genuinely surprised that Curt was so willing to do this, but Owen had the benefit of not working retail.

“Owen,” Curt said firmly, “Trust me when I say there’s nothing more important I could be doing that weekend.”

“ _I never even said when it was._ ”

“My point still stands.” Curt glanced at the clock hanging on the wall and sighed. “I have to go, my break’s almost over. I’ll talk to you about this later though?”

“ _Of course. Let me know when you’re off of work?_ ”

“I will. Bye, Owe.” Curt hung up the phone and closed his eyes for a moment, dreaming about his upcoming vacation. Vacation. . .

“Mega! We need you to clean up a shit in the men’s room!”

Curt sighed again. One day he’ll get out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double update because the first chapter is purely self indulgent.


	5. Vacation, Baby!

“Curt, love, I can get the suitcases, you needn’t overexert yourself.”

Curt hefted the suitcases out of the trunk, grunting slightly. “It’s fine, babe,” He said, the endearment slipping out naturally, without a second thought. “I’m more used to manual labor than you.”

“That’s exactly why you should let me handle it.” Owen tapped the end of Curt’s nose, causing him to scrunch it in irritation and mild amusement. They’d gone over what they considered appropriate and inappropriate touching; cheek, forehead, nose and hand kisses were all acceptable, and they could only do closed mouth pecks. Holding hands, linking arms, and touching each other’s waist was also on the table.

Curt rolled his eyes at the Brit but passed him the suitcases. “Fine. So what’s on the itinerary for the weekend? Please tell me I don’t have to get up at six AM every morning.”

“Don’t worry, your beauty rest will go uninterrupted, love,” Owen chuckled, dragging the two suitcases behind him as they made their way into the hotel.

It was fancy- fancier than anywhere Curt had ever stayed, though that was a relatively low bar. The lobby was larger than a small bedroom, which instantly put it in the ‘unaffordable even in his wildest dreams’ category. It even had a working fireplace!

“I’ll go check us in, why don’t you sit down? I know you must be tired from doing all that driving.”

Curt’s heart thumped in his chest as Owen gave him a quick peck on the lips. “You’re too good to me.”

Was Curt developing feelings for Owen? No, that’s impossible. They were just friends. Friends that pretended to date and did a lot of things that boyfriends did.

Curt twisted the sleeve of his jacket nervously, trying not to overthink things. If he began to overthink things, he’d just ruin everything, and that was the last thing he wanted.

“Curt, love? Room’s ready.”

Curt’s head snapped up at Owen’s voice, and he clambered to his feet, heading quickly over to the elevator. 

Owen shot him a worried look but followed, pressing the button and dragging the suitcases into the elevator when it arrived.

The Brit let go of one of the suitcases and pressed the back of his hand to Curt’s forehead. “Do you have another migraine, love?”

Curt shook his head. “No, just- tired, like you said.”

Owen frowned but accepted the statement. “If you say so. We’re room 721.”

Curt nodded, and Owen picked the suitcase back up. They made their way to the room silently- not an awkward one, but a comfortable one.

Owen slid the key card into the lock, and Curt pushed the door open. As he held the door for Owen, letting the other man in, Curt glanced around.

It was a relatively nice, standard hotel room; a mini fridge and microwave, a closet, a dresser, a flat screen TV, a desk, a plush armchair in the corner. . . And a single king sized bed.


	6. In Your Arms Tonight

Curt slipped into bed beside Owen, trying to calm his racing heart. Of course he and Owen would be sharing a bed; they were ‘dating’, after all, it would look odd if Owen had requested a room with double beds instead. 

This was just terrible timing. The moment he realizes he might have feelings for the man, they’re forced to share a bed. It’s like God is out to get him.

“So what’s the schedule for tomorrow?” Curt asked, hoping he sounded calmer than he actually was.

If Owen noticed, he didn’t mention it. “Breakfast at nine, then a few seminars about trust, team building, blah blah blah. You don’t have to go to those- other people’s guests usually hang out by the pool for most of the day. Lunch is at one, then a few more seminars until five, and dinner’s at seven. That’s basically the schedule for the next two days.”

Curt raised an eyebrow. “What’s the point of bringing a guest if most of the time will be spent away from them?”

Owen shrugged. “Probably so we don’t kill each other.”

Curt let out a startled laugh, and Owen grinned.

Owen leaned over and flicked off the light. “Goodnight, Curt.”

When it was dark, it was harder to see him. Curt didn’t know if he liked it better that way or not. “Goodnight.”

It took a while for Curt to fall asleep. He was afraid that he was going to end up snuggling into Owen’s side, or hugging him like a baby koala. That would be so embarrassing.

Still, he eventually managed to drift off. . .

And woke up to a warm presence engulfing him.

Curt shifted slightly, trying to figure out what it was, when he felt arms tightening around his waist and a nose nuzzling into his neck. Owen was _holding_ him. They were spooning- and Curt was the little spoon.

Curt felt himself heat up, and he tried to pull away. Owen made an unhappy sound and dragged him back, causing him to let out a quiet yelp.

Well, if he was stuck this way, he might as well enjoy it.


	7. Breakfast

“Curt? Curt, darling, it’s time to get up.”

Curt groaned and rolled over, burying his face further into his pillow. “Don’ wanna. Sleepy time.”

A hand was pressed against his back gently, as the figure beside him chuckled. “I’m sorry, love, but it’s almost time for breakfast.”

Curt peeked out from the pillow to see Owen sitting beside him on the bed, looking incredibly amused- and already dressed. He rubbed at his eyes tiredly. “‘M up, ‘m up.”

“Are you now?” Owen said, no less amused.

“Mhm,” Curt said, not at all meaning it.

“So if I threatened to tickle you, you’d be perfectly capable of fighting me off?”

Curt paused. “You wouldn’t.”

Owen had an evil grin on his face. “Oh, I would.”

Curt threw the covers off and jumped out of bed, racing to the bathroom as Owen cackled maniacally. “I’m getting ready! No need to tickle me!”

It took him less than ten minutes to be fully dressed and properly groomed- though he did force Owen to hide in the bathroom whilst he got changed. A man needs _some_ privacy.

They walked side by side to the elevator and down to the breakfast area, arms around each others’ waists.

Curt rested his head on Owen’s shoulder, pretending for just a moment that this was real. “So what’s for breakfast?”

“It’s buffet style, love. You can have anything you want.”

Curt perked up at that. “Really? I can have _anything?_ ”

Owen scanned his face. “I don’t like that look in your eyes.”

“It’s too late, you said I can have anything.” With that, Curt split from Owen’s side and made his way to the glorious buffet.

He piled his plate high with food; bacon, scrambled eggs, sausage links, a blueberry muffin, and two slices of French toast were all carefully balanced as he slowly made his way to the table Owen had grabbed for them.

Owen shook his head at him. “I can’t believe how much food you got.” His plate was sparse in comparison; just a croissant and a slice of buttered toast.

Curt shoved a forkful of egg into his mouth. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that you’ve gotta get free food where you can.”

“Hmm,” Owen hummed, reaching a hand out to snag a piece of bacon.

Curt smacked his hand away with a fork. “Hey! Get your own bacon.”

Owen rolled his eyes. “Fine, fine. Want anything while I’m up?”

Despite the fact that Owen was most likely making the offer sarcastically, Curt took him up on it. “Can you get me a chocolate milk? I forgot to grab a drink.”

Owen got up and gave Curt a peck on his way back to the buffet, patting Curt’s chest affectionately. “Yes, darling.”

Curt kissed him back happily. “You’re too good to me.”

Owen hummed before walking away, and Curt chanted internally, _this isn’t real, this isn’t real, this isn’t real._

_No matter how much you want it to be, this isn’t real._


	8. Poolside Chat

Curt stretched out on the lounge chair, drink in hand, as he soaked up the sun.

He felt bad for all the people who were stuck in the boring seminars. The weather was absolutely beautiful, and the pool was large and filled with refreshing water.

Curt had just finished a nice swim and was ready to take a quick catnap before meeting back up with Owen for lunch when a voice intruded on his thoughts. “Excuse me, can I sit here?”

Curt opened his eyes to look at the stranger standing beside him. She was short and seemed relatively friendly enough; he didn’t see the harm in it.

“Go right ahead,” Curt said, gesturing to the chair she was pointing at.

The lady sat down on the seat, putting her feet up. “Are you here on the company retreat too?”

“Does it count if I’m here as a guest of one of the employees?” Curt went back to closing his eyes, hoping the conversation wouldn’t be long.

The woman laughed- a fake one, one she must use when someone tells a bad joke and you’re expected to laugh anyway. “That’s how most of us are here. Who’s your significant other?”

“Owen Carvour.” Just saying Owen’s name filled Curt with an affection he hadn’t felt since the beginning stages of his relationship with Dick.

The woman made a somewhat surprised sound from beside him. That gained Curt’s attention- what was so surprising about his and Owen’s relationship?

Wait, they weren’t actually dating, her skepticism is actually completely valid. Pull yourself together, Curt.

“So you’re the elusive boyfriend, then.” She spoke slowly, almost disbelieving.

Curt opened his eyes back up and flashed her a charming smile. “That’s me, in the flesh.”

“That’s interesting.” The woman’s smile was hiding venom now- as a retail employee Curt was well versed in recognizing hidden anger and other dangerous emotions. “We were beginning to believe that you didn’t exist.”

Curt decided to ignore her usage of the word ‘we’. “Well, I do very clearly exist, so if you could-”

“And isn’t it interesting how Owen is on the executive track while I’m fairly certain you’re nothing more than a cashier at the local Wal-Mart?”

Curt sat up, doing his best to suppress a glare. “Are you trying to imply something?”

The woman plastered on a fake innocent look that Curt wanted to smack off her face. “I’m not implying anything.”

Before Curt could say anything, a gentle hand was rested on his shoulder, and he relaxed at the familiar feeling of Owen’s skin on his.

“Have fun while I was gone, love?” Owen asked, leaning down and giving him a quick peck on the lips.

“It’s no fun when you’re not around, babe,” Curt said, his nose brushing against Owen’s, not quite letting the man lean away just yet.

Owen chuckled, nuzzling him. “You’re such a sap.”

Curt tried not to giggle- _giggle, Mega, seriously?-_ at the contact. “You love it.”

Owen had a certain look in his eye that Curt couldn’t quite place. “Yeah, I do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so college JUST started back up for me, so... fingers crossed I can keep up the pace I’ve set for myself!


	9. Pain

Curt was dying.

That had to be it.

He curled up into a ball, tugging the sheets over his head with a groan, before quickly pulling them back just enough so his face was peeking out.

The bed bowed under an added weight, and gentle fingers began carding through his hair. “Does your head hurt, my love?”

“Mhmm,” Curt managed to eek out, grateful for the contact and wishing Owen could just take the pain away.

“Do you want me to stay with you?”

Curt shook his head. “Go get dinner. ‘ll be fine.”

Curt could practically hear the frown in Owen’s voice. “If you say so, darling. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Curt hummed as a soft kiss was placed upon his brow, and felt some minute relief when he heard Owen pull the curtains closed, causing the room to darken. Sweet, sweet darkness. . .

He woke up to his forehead being dabbed with a damp wash cloth. Curt scrunched his nose up in mild irritation and confusion.

“It’s just me, Curt,” Owen said quietly. “You looked like you were in pain.”

Curt started to relax back into the bed, but Owen put a hand underneath his head to halt him. “Can you drink some water for me?”

Curt nodded, too weak to find the words, and soon he felt a water bottle being pressed to his lips. He guzzled it down, not having realized how thirsty he was until this very moment, a little bit of water dribbling out of his mouth.

Owen made quiet shushing sounds in an attempt to soothe him, and pulled the bottle away when Curt was done.

Curt felt as his face was gently wiped with a napkin, and he made a sound that indicated his thanks, hoping Owen would understand it.

Owen pressed a kiss to his temple. “Go back to sleep, my love. I’ll be right here if you need anything.”

Curt hummed, snuggling back into bed. “Love you.”

Owen was silent for a moment. “I love you too.”

That was the last thing Curt heard before he drifted back off to sleep.


	10. Take It Away

When Curt awoke, it was to the feeling of warmth and safety engulfing him.

Curt tried to stretch his legs only to realize he was in Owen’s arms, practically being cradled by the man, Owen’s face in his hair and his face in the crook of the Brit’s neck.

Curt blushed and contemplated extracting himself from the embrace, but ultimately decided not to. He was just so comfortable, and Owen was the one holding him, after all, it wouldn’t hurt. . .

The next time he woke, Owen was also up. Or at least, Curt assumed it was the case; the room had the smell of toast in the air, and his head was in Owen’s lap, fingers lightly massaging his scalp.

Owen apparently felt him shifting slightly. “How’s your head doing, Curt?”

“Better.” Curt swallowed, not sure if he should pick his head up out of Owen’s lap or not. He was rather comfortable, but he was already fighting an uphill battle against his own feelings.

Owen kept moving his fingers. It was nice; it relieved some of the pressure in his skull. “I got you some breakfast so you wouldn’t have to get up.”

Curt furrowed his eyebrows in confusion as he pieced something together. “Aren’t you supposed to be in a seminar right now?”

Owen hummed but didn’t say anything.

Curt sat up in shock, though Owen’s arms were quickly weaving around him and trying to get him to lay back down. “Owen! What if you get in trouble?”

Owen stroked Curt’s cheek with the back of his hand gently. “This is more important. You need me right now.” His expression was soft, tender. It made Curt melt inside.

“Owen. . .” Curt closed his eyes and treasured his touch.

Owen pulled him close. “I’m here, my love. I’ve got you.”

Curt wanted so desperately to believe him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Owen, last night: I love you  
> Curt, forgetting all about it: I wonder why Owen is doing this...


	11. The L Word

It was getting harder and harder to deny his feelings for Owen.

The man was practically waiting on him hand and foot to make him feel better; keeping the room as dark as possible, getting him food and water, giving him medicine when he needed it. He even held the trash can under Curt’s mouth when he puked!

No one had ever cared this much about his wellbeing. Curt remembered having migraines when he was still seeing Dick; he’d curl up in his bedroom and cry while Dick blasted the TV from the other room.

Owen would never do something so thoughtless. Owen loved him.

Curt forced the thought away. Where had _that_ come from? There was no way Owen could love him. Owen was too good for someone like him. Owen was just. . . A very good friend.

Speaking of Owen, the Brit came back from the bathroom with a fresh washcloth for his forehead.

He sat down on the bed beside Curt and folded the rag, placing it on his skin with great care.

Curt reached out to him. “Owen. . . You don’t have to do this for me.”

Owen intertwined his fingers with Curt’s and squeezed his hand gently. “I want to do it, Curt.”

Curt pressed his lips together and averted his eyes from the other man. It was one thing to pretend to date when there were eyes on them; here, behind closed doors, Curt had to remember his place. And that was someone who would never be good enough for Owen.

Owen brushed a gentle kiss against his cheek. “Get some rest, darling.”

“Why do you care so much?” The question burst forth before he could stop it, and he wished with all his might he could take it back. He wasn’t ready to have his heart broken.

Owen looked at him in surprise. “What do you mean?”

“Why do you care how I’m doing or if I’m well? Why do you care about me?” Curt hoped that his insecurities didn’t shine through at the end.

Owen squeezed his hand tighter now. “I thought I’ve made it fairly obvious. I love you.”


	12. (Un)Lovable

Curt gaped at Owen, trying to process what he’d said.

He _loved_ Curt? No, that wasn’t possible; Owen was simply being kind. Or perhaps this was a hallucination. That must be it.

Curt didn’t realize he’d begun weeping until Owen was wiping his tears away. “Oh, love, I’m sorry,” He said soothingly, somewhat alarmed. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I’ve really gone and mucked it up, now, haven’t I?”

Curt shook his head, straining to find the words but forcing them out anyway. “You can’t love me, Owen.”

Owen frowned at him, cupping his cheek as he wiped away another tear with his thumb. “Why ever not?”

The words were out of Curt’s mouth before he could stop them. “Because I’m unlovable.”

“Curt,” Owen exhaled in concern, “who told you that?”

Everyone, Curt thought. Everyone has.

Curt thought of Dick yelling at him, calling him too needy and throwing all the love Curt had ever given him back in his face. How no one could ever love a failure like him- a college dropout whose greatest accomplishment was managing to move out of his mother’s house.

Owen was pulling him into his arms, dragging him back into reality. Curt buried his face into his neck, sobbing freely now, the washcloth falling away from his forehead.

Owen made quiet shushing noises and rocked him gently in an attempt to comfort him. “It’s all right, my darling, I’ve got you. You’re good. You’re so good. Never forget that.” He punctuated each sentence with a kiss against Curt’s temple.

Curt closed his eyes and let Owen’s love wash over him like a wave, his tears eventually subsiding and tiredness overcoming him.


	13. Finale

Curt sat, nestled in Owen’s lap, head tucked into his neck. Owen loved him.

The thought was ridiculous to Curt, but it was true. Owen loved him.

_Owen loved him._

Curt kept replaying Owen’s words in his mind, repeating them over and over like it was his favorite song. Owen loved him.

“Owen?” Curt asked quietly, feeling shy but wanting his. . . Partner? Lover? Owen. His Owen’s reassurance.

“Yes, darling?” Owen’s voice carried masked concern, which was warranted- Curt’s breakdown had probably terrified him.

“Why do you love me?”

Owen’s hand ran up and down his back in rhythmic motions as he spoke. “I’m not quite sure,” He said slowly. “I’ve been trying to figure it out myself. I think it’s the way you smile at me.”

Owen leaned down and pressed a kiss to the crown of his head. “I’ve never known someone like you. Someone so soft, so ready to love even when you’ve been hurt before.”

Curt looked up at Owen in surprise, but the Brit kept talking. “I could see it in your eyes the day we met. You were hurting inside, and a part of me was drawn to you. I wanted to just take you in my arms and give you the world.”

Curt reached up and cupped Owen’s face gently. “I didn’t know you were so romantic,” He said lamely.

“Will you let me?”

Curt blinked. “What?”

“Will you let me give you the world?” Even as Owen said it, he looked sort of afraid. As if Curt would say no.

“Owen. . .” Curt pulled the Brit down and kissed him gently, lovingly, lips barely parted.


End file.
